Boston
by AliasMarie
Summary: Songfic for Boston by Augustana. Set during / after the last scene in the Second David Job. Sophie's thoughts on Nate and where to go next.


As Nate turned and left, the rest of the team followed his lead, walking to the jets they had chartered. Suddenly, Sophie found herself stopping. She really didn't want this job to end. She had only just gotten Nate back, and now she was going to lose him again. Was there anyone else who was tempted turn around? She didn't know, but right then, the only thing she could do was focus on staying in place, because if she so much as looked over her shoulder, she would find herself running to him, and that just, well, wasn't how Sophie Devereaux worked. Her eyes were red and before she really knew what was happening, the tears were falling. Sophie had crossed the world with him on her heels. Now it was her turn to do the chasing.

She knew him better now. Maybe better than he knew himself. But he didn't know _her_. He knew her better than anyone, but he still didn't know the real her,the Sophie whose name was something else. She didn't really care about that part, not as much as she should, anyway. But he was still broken, shackled to the bottle with chains she couldn't break, or even understand.

It was essential. They had to split up. Sterling was looking for them, and when Sterling looked for someone, he found them. It was essential, a necessity, yet her heart still tried to appeal to her common sense, to make a case for staying. It wasn't going to work. Sophie snuck one last glance at her team and walked away. Across the open field of the airplane hangar, Nate did the same. She had waited for him for ten years. He would find her again. She could wait a little longer for him to heal, even if she was the only one who cried when she saw him so broken. He didn't know her, and she didn't wear his chains, but they could try.

Up until that moment, Sophie had had no idea where she was going. She couldn't go to Paris, or Rome, and London was so damn depressing this time of year. There was nothing for her to do but follow Nate. When the pilot asked her, she simply shrugged and said, "Wherever he went," because that was all that was important. To her, anyway.

The pilot, wonderful though he was, had no way of knowing which of the three men 'he' was. He scratched his head. "Well, ummm..."

"The chopper. Wherever the chopper is going, that's where I want to go."

"OK," he said uncertainly. She looked defiantly at him. I'll just clear our flight plan with control, and then we'll be off to Boston."

_A fresh start._ Sophie had never stolen anything in Boston. The city was full of history, but the American Revolution had never really interested the Englishwoman. She could start over. A brand new life, a new name that no one knew. She would be Katherine, and with a generous donation, she would be cast as a lead in a small production somewhere in the city. She was done with California. She was tired of the weather. Yes, that was it: the weather, _not_ Nate Ford. Not the memories of him that seemed to be everywhere she looked, especially in LA. But Sophie would deal with it. She always had. She would get a new boyfriend; take him on an exotic vacation, somewhere _fun_, like Spain. She and Nate had had such fun in Madrid that one time.

No, she was going to Boston. Not Madrid. Following Nate, not being chased. Maybe she was just tired, but Sophie needed a new town to leave everything she knew behind. She needed a sunrise, if only because Nate was not a morning person and they had shared far too many sunsets. Nate had always said Boston was nice in the summer, and Sophie loved the snow. No, the weather wouldn't be a problem.

It would take time. She would keep tabs on him of course, but as long as he was healing, she would be happy to stay away. She just needed to let him heal; let him find the key to his chains. Or learn to pick the lock.

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><p><strong>AN: This is my first fanfic, so I am guilting you into reviewing. Mua ha ha! Ummm... yeah. Tell me if you like it, hate it, are largely indifferent, etc.<strong>


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